


When You're Not Here, I'm Suffocating

by AnUnstoppableWarrior



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Gardener Michael, King Ryan, Knight Ray, M/M, did i mention this was minecraft au?, king AU, no?, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnUnstoppableWarrior/pseuds/AnUnstoppableWarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling anxiety about impending marriage proposals from his court, Ryan finds peace of mind in the unlikely arms of the castle's gardener, Michael. With his court unaware of his preference for men, it becomes a race against time to save the life of his love when a betrayer steals away Ryan's one escape from a life of pretend. But there's more to the story then what Ryan discovers, and it might cost him not only his Kingship, but his life as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote 9000+ words of like, a year ago, or something, and never got around to posting. I really like it, so I figured I post a first chapter, to force myself to start thinking about it again. I've got some ideas for it and am actually excited to write for it, so here's hoping you all enjoy it!

Strangely, Ryan never finds himself in the garden all that much.

 

Despite being King, and having all the leisure time he could ever need, he has very little recollection of ever spending an extended period of time in the garden. There's simply too much to be done.

 

But it's beautiful. He knows his personal knight, Ray, has a particular fondness for red roses, and looking around the quiet garden now he can see no shortage of the flower. He wonders briefly if the reason there are so many roses is because of Ray. Other flowers and plants he has never seen before are also displayed out before him, waving slightly in the breeze as if saying, _yes, come and enjoy us, we are a safe haven._

 

When Ryan was younger and his father had still been King, he remembers there being elderly women roaming the grounds, tending to the gardens. Ryan would talk to them and accept hugs that nearly suffocated him, but they were warm and sincere, something he didn't often experience in the castle with his own two parents. But that was okay—the tough love and high expectations of his parents helped him in his later years to take the throne with a heavy heart and a wicked smile.

 

One of his strongest memories—and it's weird that this of all the moments in his life thus far is remembered so vividly—is when a new gardener was hired to care for the wilting flowers. He had dark wavy hair and a warm smile, and though Ryan hadn't even been five years of age yet he still regards the image of that smile with a rare happiness he doesn't find in his life that much.

 

On his seventh birthday he also remembers a commotion in the garden, but he could not go down and investigate himself. Instead he'd been trapped in his room under mountains of books and lesson scrolls. He never did discover the reason for that day, nor had he returned to the garden until years later, when he stood in front of his parent's graves, his father's crown now settled rightfully on his head.

 

The garden and its mystic beauty was pushed to the back of his mind as he worked with his court to run his kingdom. Most of his work involved repairing relationships with neighboring kingdoms his father had been hostile with. Ryan was no fool—the Kings and Queens of this realm should have no qualms with each other. After years of negotiations and treaties and drinks over fire, he'd successfully united the rulers of the land on common ground— _together we'll stand as one to defeat ou_ _r_ _enemies._

 

Ryan can quite plainly see the garden has continued to flourish without his presence. He might have thought at one point the garden couldn't exist without him thinking about it. He'd half expected the flowers to be dead and the grounds to be stripped bare but the contrary is true. The flowers have never been brighter in color nor has the foliage of the surrounding plants ever been as neatly trimmed. He wonders if that same old man with the dark wavy hair and warm smile is still caring so reverently for these plants.

 

Winter is fast approaching, but for the moment a warm breeze still lingers. Ryan is uncharacteristically saddened at the thought of this garden wilting for months, but then his thoughts circle back to the caretaker. Perhaps he should search the man—or woman—out and offer his thanks that his garden is being taken care of so diligently. It is, of course, a trivial concern on his long list of grievances, but to the gardener this garden is a work of art, and Ryan feels like commending whoever it is on it.

 

And because he's King, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

 

He can easily imagine losing his sense of time here. It would be a dream to recline on the grass and watch the clouds pass by overhead. No worries about the kingdom or the court or marriage. He scoffs. _Marriage._

 

Ryan knows it would come up eventually. The conversation was inevitable, but he wishes dearly for it to leave his mind alone and never return. His court has started whispering words like _marriage_ and _courting_ and _Queen._ It makes Ryan unhappy to even think of such a thing, but perhaps not for the reasons a King might conventionally have.

 

He does not have a problem with a Queen. He has a problem with the court's idea of a Queen. In other words, a woman.

 

Ryan knows many Queens and Princesses, and he knows well they are not to be trifled with. His old friend Geoff in particular has quite the vixen at his side, and no doubt Griffon is the closest their lands have to a warrior Queen.

 

But he doesn't want a warrior Queen, nor a regal or quiet one. He does not want a Queen at all. What he wants he knows his court will never allow.

 

A man, after all, cannot be a Queen.

 

No one save Ray and his dead parents know about his preference, and he'd like to keep it that way. It's not at all that people won't accept his decision for male company—they don't have to agree with his choices. But they will, besides the fact of his status, because most people know by this point that loving someone of the same gender is the same as loving someone of another gender. But there will always be _those_ people who still cling to the old ways of male and female relationships being the only right and true relationships, and though it's not a rule anywhere, it is expected of him, as King, to take a wife and produce an heir.

 

He wants to stomp his feet and throw a tantrum. He wants to punch faces and knock out teeth.

 

He wants to scream at them _it's not fair, it'll never be so!_

 

He can't.

 

What he can do is bury his dilemmas and take a walk in the garden.

 

His search is for naught, as he can find no caretaker on the grounds. So he silently gives his thanks and vows to come again another day, in the hopes that he may be more successful next time.

 

][][][

 

Next time is a few months later, after winter has had its way with the land. Ryan's kingdom is far enough north that snow hits the ground, bathing the houses and trees with a soft white. It makes for a grand spectacle, one that he delights in seeing from the comfort of his warm and comfortable chamber.

 

However, the other side of his room offers a sad sight indeed. The garden, still in the back of his mind throughout the day. The snow makes everything look wonderful, but he knows that beneath the purity there is death. He almost feels sorry for the plants, and does feel bad that the gardener will have quite a job ahead of him. Or her.

 

This is one thing that has bothered Ryan immensely since his impromptu walk months ago. He still doesn't know the identity of the caretaker. Male or female, young or old; Ryan hasn't the slightest idea as to what the gardener looks like, or even his or her name. What he'd really like, above all else, is to see this mysterious person's face and thank them for a job well done.

 

When the snow finally melts away Ryan is pleased to see that not all of the garden submitted to nature's fury. Most of the trees are still healthily green, and new life is already starting to grow back.

 

He's passing by a hallway window when he sees a figure amongst the foliage. He stops short and holds his breath, which he does find odd. He shouldn't be so fixated on a gardener, of all things. But he cannot look away as this person, wrapped in a thick winter coat to stave off the lingering chill, gently touches and tends to the flowers. Ryan hopes this person will lower their hood, but it doesn't happen, and instead he's left to watch the figure's retreating back, sorely disappointed.

 

][][][

 

The _gall_ of some people.

 

Ryan is an understanding King, but not often a patient one. His temper is held strictly in check by an iron will, but he knows when to let that side of him out. He was told once that, if he wished it, he could be a mad King, crazy with power and blood lust.

 

Apparently some people on his court are just dying to see that side of him.

 

No longer are they whispering of marriage—they are shouting it. Demanding when they have no right, they make case after case, pathetically pleading with him to fulfill his duties as King and give the kingdom an heir.

 

_It is unheard of for a King of such age to not have a Queen._

 

_The kingdom needs an heir. You are in good health but the inevitability of death waits for no man._

 

_The other Kings will see this as a weakness._

 

It's all bullshit.

 

Ryan knows the other Kings better than all the men on his counsel combined. They would certainly not think less of him because he doesn't have a Queen, he knows it and they know it. The only thing his court is doing in terms of the “negotiations” towards arranging a marriage for him, is making him angry. They will not listen, but even if they did what would he say? His tongue is tied.

 

In his anger he's made his way, unknowingly but gratefully, to the gardens. Life has continued to flourish, and everything is returning to the vibrancy and normality that it once possessed. As always, the gardens remind him of simpler, happier days, and his anger is, temporarily, subdued.

 

“You've been coming here a lot lately.”

 

It goes to show how well of a relationship he has with his knight when he can tell, just by the slight intonation of Ray's voice, that whatever it is he's come to tell him, he won't find it to be pleasant news, and given what he knows about his counsel, he has a feeling he already knows what Ray has to say to him.

 

“It helps me calm down. Wouldn't want to do something I might...regret...to the idiots on the counsel.”

 

He walks farther into the garden, away from the castle walls. He hears Ray following behind him, and stops in front of a patch of roses. Ray comes to stand beside him, admiring the beautiful and lively flowers.

 

“Then I suggest taking some time to yourself. You're not going to like what I have to say.”

 

“I already know what they did. I won't go through with it. Not every kingdom in our history needs two rulers.”

 

Ray nods and picks one of the roses. “Yeah, but a kingdom does need an heir. Sooner or later you're going to have to do something about it.”

 

“I'd prefer later,” Ryan mutters. He sighs—he's tired of all this. But Ray is right.

  
His counsel has elected to arrange a marriage for him, against his wishes. He doesn't know who they'll choose, but there are a few single women he can think of. Queen Kathleen, the only monarch besides himself to not have a spouse, and Princesses Barbara and Kara, who have both passed the legal age to marry, come to mind. He knows them, and he knows that, if the counsel has it's way, he can make whoever they choose happy. He would even provide his services in bed, if only to procure his kingdom a future ruler.

 

But he would not be happy.

 

“I think I'll take a walk,” Ryan says, and turns to see Ray utterly covered in roses. When he raises a brow in question Ray flashes a grin at him, and Ryan smiles and is that much more thankful he has Ray at his side and _on_ his side. He needs it.

 

“I'll leave you to it then. These babies need some water.” Ray salutes as best he can with his arms full, and walks away. Just as he reaches the edge of the garden he turns back. “If you see Michael, can you tell him 'thanks for the roses' for me?”

 

Ryan racks his brain, trying to put a face to that name. He comes up blank.

 

“Michael?” He asks, feeling dumb. He should know his own staff's names.

 

“Yeah, the gardener.” And Ray leaves, his words having a greater effect than he knows.

 

 _Yes,_ Ryan thinks as he looks around the garden carefully, _I will tell Michael 'thank you.'_

 

Michael proves to be harder to find than Ryan would have expected. As it is the sun will fall below the horizon soon, and he will be forced inside to search another day.

 

He never really thought about how big the castle and neighboring lands were. The garden is huge! It spans the length of the castle and along its sides, and recedes into a forest. He wonders if Michael is the only gardener, but that would be preposterous. Such a large garden surely needs more than one person. Ryan can't imagine tending to a garden so large each and every day.

 

He's beginning to lose hope. Learning the gardener's name and the subsequent search for him had taken his mind off the troubling matter of his impending marriage, but now the thoughts are back, digging their claws in and forcing him to consider the counsel's proposal.

 

He's not old—he'd vehemently argue the contrary—but his legs are tired, so he spots a large plot of grass and makes his way over.

 

He should be concerned about his attire becoming dirty, but he really couldn't care less. He hasn't sat on grass and done nothing since he was a small boy, and dammit he's the King. If he wants to contemplate his life while sitting on a patch of grass at dusk then he will.

 

“Hey buddy! It's gonna get dark soon and I don't want to be responsible for anything if you get attacked or some shit like that. There are some dangerous animals that come out at night, especially so close to the forest.”

 

A person is walking towards him, lantern held aloft. It's gotten darker. From the informal tone of voice, he can tell this person has not yet recognized him. Interesting.

 

“I am aware, I did not mean to linger for so long.”

 

As the light starts illuminating his features he is pleased to see the surprise on the young man's face as he realizes who he's speaking to. But the surprise quickly gives way to a neutral—yet slightly angry—expression. His next words are not at all what Ryan is expecting.

 

“Yeah well, I guess you can stay as long as you want. It's not like I can do anything about that.”

 

Ryan, who normally is addressed as Liege or Sire or Majesty, does not often speak with people who act like their true selves around him. Only Ray and fellow royalty ever act in a way that could be construed as impolite while in royalty's presence.

 

And instead of backtracking and apologizing for basically telling him what to do, this stranger pushes on as if they were old friends talking casually with each other. It serves to pique his interest.

 

“Yes. May I ask your name and what _you_ are doing here so late at night?”

 

“Is that a question though? Or are you ordering me to tell you?”

 

“You can take it anyway you want.”

 

“Huh. You know, I'm a little disappointed you don't know my name already. Isn't it good practice to know the name's of the people who work for you?”

 

He has a point, but Ryan can't be faulted on it. There are a lot of people working in and around the castle, some he hasn't even met. The illusive gardener is one such person.

 

“Listen, I have a lot of people working for me. Am I to believe you remember everyone you've ever worked for?”

 

“Yeah, because I've only worked for one person my whole life.”

 

That's strange. “I'm perplexed by your meaning. You've only worked for me?”

 

The stranger hangs the lantern on a nearby pole and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Okay, so two people. I worked here when your father was King.”

 

This young man can be no older than twenty, surely. In the light of the lantern Ryan can see russet curls and a soft face. His story should appear suspect, but he tells it sincerely. “That was many years ago, and yet you look to be twenty, at the least.”

 

“Yeah, I was born here. My father taught me how to do my job, and when he died I just took over. With the correct papers, of course,” he adds hurriedly.

 

Something about the timing of it all pulls at his mind, but then, belatedly, he realizes he still doesn't know this person's name, and what surprises him most about this encounter is that he wants to know it. But it's getting late, and as much as he's enjoying himself he must return to the castle.

 

“In that case I'd like to congratulate you on dedicating your life to...I'm sorry, what is it exactly that you do?”

 

The young man blinks a few times before answering. “I'm the gardener.”

 

Oh really?

 

“Michael?”

 

This obviously surprises him. “How'd you know? I thought—”

 

“My knight, Ray, wanted me to tell you 'thanks for the roses.'”

 

Michael adopts a frown and looks over his shoulder to the rose bushes. “Did that fucker pick my roses? Goddamn, how many times do I have to tell him to keep his damn hands to himself?” He mutters angrily. Michael turns back to him. “Yeah, whatever, tell him to go fuck himself. No, better yet, tell him I'm going to let the roses die next winter if he continues picking them without supervision.”

 

Ryan raises an eyebrow as Michael collects the lantern. “Isn't that a bit extreme?”

 

“Hey, this garden is like my kingdom, okay? He can't touch my stuff without my permission.”

 

“Even if I tell him he can?”

 

Michael falters, because fuck, Ryan's the King. He owns the garden. But Michael has always been stubborn.

 

“Fuck no, those are my goddamn roses. Whatever, I’m going home.”

 

Panicked suddenly for no reason, Ryan bites his tongue and lets Michael walk away. Never has he met someone so utterly unconcerned with his status as King. Ryan finds that he likes it, how casual and comfortable Michael can be around him despite the fact that Ryan can destroy his life for speaking that way to him. But he'd never toss away something that held his interest.

 

][][][

 

He returns the next day, unable to help himself now that he knows the identity of his gardener. Already Michael has proven that he does not care for Ryan's kingship, and that kind of familiarity is a rarity Ryan doesn't experience all that often.

 

He is far more successful finding Michael today. It's like, by meeting him yesterday, suddenly he's everywhere Ryan looks. As he gazes over the many flowers and bushes he sees a flash of dark hair, and suddenly he's reminded of all those years ago when the previous gardener had been hired. The connection snaps into place in his head, and he feels foolish not piecing the puzzle together quicker. Michael had said his father taught him his job. That must mean that Michael's father was the previous gardener, the one with the dark hair and warm smile who would let Ryan tag along behind him, always telling him stories. Ryan cannot look back on his childhood without picturing that kind old man.

 

Michael is standing by a bush with yellow flowers growing from it, a hose in hand while he whistles. The scene is so incredibly domestic Ryan is almost struck dumb with its simplicity. He doesn't know how someone can make the time to stand by a bush and water it, not when there is so much more to be done. Michael happens to look his way as if sensing someone in the garden with him.

 

“Didn't expect to see you here again. Don't you have important things to be doing?” There's an easy smile on Michael's face that Ryan wants to see more of. Something about this man just draws him in, in a way he can't help but fall prey to.

 

“Nah,” Ryan says and waves a hand towards the castle. “They're fine. Besides, I can do whatever I want,” he points out.

 

“Right, so you choose to wander the gardens? Why aren't you out like, banging whores or something?”

 

The question is so inappropriate and unexpected that Ryan blushes. It's fitting, however, that Michael wouldn't care about his words around him.

 

“Not really my kind of thing,” he answers honestly, and Michael nods but doesn't say anything more on the subject. Ryan feels suddenly nervous for a reason he can't identify.

 

“So what is your kind of thing? I've noticed that you don't make many public appearances.”

 

“Uh, yeah...I guess I don't assert my authority over the people as much as I could huh? I'm sure most can live a happy life without ever seeing me.” He's getting flustered and stammering over his words, which is unusual for him since he prides himself on his higher intellect.

 

“Yeah,” Michael says noncommittally. He drops the hose and starts walking along the path to the facet. Unbidden, Ryan follows along.

 

“Shouldn't there be someone out here watching you, or something? You know, so no assassins or mercenaries try to kill you.” Michael says as he turns off the water and leans against an old shed tucked into the dense foliage of the forest, hidden in plain sight.

 

“I'd say we're in peacetime, wouldn't you? And I'm sure Ray's around here somewhere. I get the impression that you two know each other.”

 

Michael shrugs. “It's hard to ignore someone when they spend their every available waking second crowding around part of your job. The guy's in love with roses. He's pretty cool though.”

 

Ryan smiles. Though Ray claims to not liking social events he can make a fast friend without much effort it seems. “Yes, I'm very fortunate to have him as my knight. He's very skilled at what he does. As I can see you are as well,” he says and sweeps his hand out towards the garden. “You've done a marvelous job, and I would like to thank you for it. This garden has served me well throughout my life and its...important to me that it's well cared for. I wouldn't want another person tending to it.”

 

It might be the heat of the sun but Michael's cheeks redden. He gives a half shrug. “Thanks—or, you're welcome, I guess. I'm just doing my job.”

 

“And you're doing it spectacularly.”

 

Michael rolls his eyes. “Jeez, aren't you just the compliment guy today. No one's ever thanked me for doing my job.” He smiles. “Thanks. I'll try not to disappoint in the future.”

 

“Now that would be impossible.” Ryan smiles too.

 

][][][

 

“So you remember when my father was hired? How old are you, like...fifty?”

 

Ryan laughs and turns his head to look at Michael. “No, I'm not fifty. I believe I was seven when I saw him last. When there used to be more people working in the garden I would always escape the castle and hide behind the bushes and trees. The women and your father were—not old, but not young. The guards would walk by my hiding spots all the time and not do anything if I snuck off to play in the grass. I think they were humoring me, letting me be a child for once.”

 

A few days after their second meeting he and Michael are laying on the grass, shaded from the burning sun by a large tree. Ray had joined him this trip, and is reclining against a nearby tree's trunk at a respectful and tactical distance.

 

As royalty it is strange for him to dirty his clothes by sitting on the ground, but he could not resist Michael's invitation when the young man laid on his back and patted the grass next to him. Since then they'd talked in a way Ryan found intellectually stimulating and thankful for. It's nice to talk to someone who has the courage to disagree with him.

 

With his court's insistence upon a bride he'd feared losing control of himself. Talking with Michael in the garden helps calm his nerves and brightens his day, even if he only says a polite 'hello' when he arrives to see Michael hard at work, which isn't often but enough that he does not wish to interfere.

 

“That's funny 'cause I always wanted to get out of the sun when I was a kid. I always wondered what the inside of the castle looked like. I thought about sneaking in a few times but I always chickened out.”

 

“Have you never been inside the castle before?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Would you like to?” The words slip from his mouth before he can really think about their meaning, but he does not regret them. Commoners—and it's wrong to think of Michael like this but he is a citizen of the kingdom—are not allowed to roam the halls of the castle, which, for as long as it's been built, has only been home to royalty.

 

But as King, he thinks no one will question him. Certainly no one can do anything about it.

 

“Is that even allowed?” Michael asks, still staring at the sky. For all the time he spends in the garden and around the castle grounds Ryan might have thought Michael knew nothing of the rules of the castle, but the man seems to know what is and isn't allowed, at the least.

 

Although, he also doesn't seem to care all that much about rules.

 

“Am I the King or not? They can't do anything if you're with me.” Ryan stands up and offers his hand. “Shall we go?”

 

“Right now?” Michael asks, taking the offered hand. Ryan hauls him up and Ray stands as well.

 

“Sure, why not.”

 

Michael shrugs and gestures for him to lead the way. Ray follows behind them.

 

The warmth of the sun is nice, especially after winter, but the cool stone of the castle is a welcome relief. Almost immediately Michael casts an appreciative gaze around the large arched room.

 

“Wow. This is pretty impressive compared to the shitty little shack my father built awhile ago. Must be nice seeing this stuff all the time,” Michael says, referring to the many decorative vases and statues adorning the walls and along the hallways.

 

“I can see why you'd say that, having not experienced them before. But trust me, seeing the same statue everyday of your life gets boring fairly quickly.”

 

“Yeah but, just look at this place.”

 

The stone walls are a nice cool gray color and stretch far above their heads. Paintings pass by on walls and various works of art are displayed proudly. Ryan thinks it's a little much, but his mother had been something of an art collector. His father hadn't cared at all and bought the pieces most likely to stop her constant chatter.

 

“Yes, I know that I should be extremely fortunate to have all this. I'll admit that it is very lovely.”

 

“Yeah you will,” Michael says but Ryan can tell he's distracted. They walk through the many hallways, Ryan explaining what room led where and the general history of the castle. It might not have been Michael's definition of a good time, but he enjoys it nonetheless, and even more so because of the way Ryan sounds when he speaks. Michael can tell the castle and it's significance in his life is very important to Ryan.

 

They'd just entered a large room with a double staircase when someone interrupts.

 

“Your Majesty!”

 

A nobleman scurries towards them, scrolls tucked neatly under his arm. Michael had seen several noble men and women in his time as the gardener, but he's never had much interest in talking to one. They're all the same to him, each obsessed with being the King's favorite. They don't care about people who have less money and influence than themselves, all they care about is how much say in the matters of the kingdom they have. It's a little sickening to think about and Michael tries not to. He doesn't know how they can live with themselves.

 

“Yes?” Ryan asks, and Michael might be crazy but he sounds annoyed. A part of him hopes it's because they're being interrupted or maybe because the guy's a fuckin' douche and Ryan hates him.

 

“I wanted to—oh,” he says, finally noticing Michael standing slightly behind Ryan. His posture turns a little colder. “I wasn't aware you had a...guest. I have the scrolls from the last court meeting you were absent from. If I may be so bold to say, missing these extremely important meetings is—”

 

“I don't think boldness suits you. Dismissed.”

 

“My King—”

 

“Leave now.”

 

Looking offended, the noble casts one last look between the two of them, his face twisted into an ugly frown, before he turns on his heel and strides away. Ryan lets out a heavy sigh.

 

“A friend of yours?” Michael murmurs. Ryan laughs but the sound is constrained, almost mocking.

 

“Hardly. I wouldn't call any of the men of court the friendly type, despite their various attempts to convince me otherwise. Well—maybe one or two. I've spent my whole life around them, and I know just how deceiving they can be.”

 

“Good. That guy was a total prick. And you let them get away with attitude like that? If I was King I'd have their heads cut off.”

 

“Let's be glad you're not the King then,” Ryan says, tucking his hands behind his back and continuing their walk through the castle.

 

“I don't know, I think he'd get shit done as King,” Ray speaks up, walking politely behind the both of them to allow them some form of privacy. “He was right Ryan, you have been avoiding the meetings. It's going to come back and bite you in the ass if you keep it up.”

 

“I know Ray, you know I'm well aware of what they want, but I won't do it.” At this point they're stopped before a window, one that conveniently faces the garden. Ryan braces his hands on the windowsill.

 

“Won't do what?” Michael asks, not caring at all that, as a gardener, he has no right or reason to ask the King, of all people, this question, but he's interested and starting to call Ryan friend anyway, and friends help each other out.

 

“The court and I are amidst an argument that started when when I was born and discovered to be male. As the heir to the kingdom I would need a suitable Queen, if for nothing other than providing those greedy bastards a future King. But I do not wish to marry.”

 

Ray comes up and wraps an arm around Michael's shoulder to get buddy-buddy with him. “What he means is he's afraid of women.”

 

“I am no such thing.”

 

“Remind me to tell you the awesome story about how when Ryan was young and meeting Princesses he ran to his room crying because one of them—”

 

“T-That's enough Ray,” Ryan says. Michael notes he's oddly flustered. Ray's words must ring with some truth then. He's definitely going to ask Ray about it later.

 

“I'm just saying, maybe if you'd been more—”

 

“I will reassign you to tending the chamberpots if you speak another word.”

 

Ray shuts his mouth but wiggles his brows at Michael, who has a hand up against his mouth to contain his laughter. Ryan glares at them.

 

“You two shouldn't be friends.”

 

][][][

 

Unfortunately for him, Ray and Michael become great friends.

 

Ryan blames it on the court—but then again he likes to blame everything on them. If they weren't so keen on ruining his life he wouldn't be avoiding them so much, which wouldn't send him to the garden, which wouldn't put Ray and Michael in close proximity.

 

And normally he'd be okay with them getting to know each other. They sure had a hell of a lot in common despite their widely different skill sets and lifestyles. But ever since a few days ago Ray is constantly telling—completely false—recounts of the adventures of young Prince Ryan.

 

If it was anyone else Ryan would be annoyed and promptly stop the slander from Ray's mouth, but as it is the sight of Michael and Ray laughing—and fully too, not just quiet snickers—is too relaxing an opportunity to miss. Besides, he trusts Michael, which comes as a surprise when he realizes that Michael has gone from faceless gardener to someone Ryan can call a friend. His next thoughts after that one come like slaps to the face.

 

Is he a little too friendly? It's certainly strange for a King to take an interest in a commoner—and he doesn't mean strictly platonically either. He can say for certain now that he doesn't go to the gardens because he's trying to get away from the eyes of the court; well he is still, but the reason for his frequent visits has shifted to that of simply seeing and talking with Michael.

 

Sometimes he catches himself staring at the man from across the garden, or worse, he's caught staring. On those occasions he'll play it off and wave, acting like he only just turned and caught Michael's eye. But when he shakes himself out of his stupor, he always feels a little more bothered than he'd been moments before, especially when his thoughts take a suggestive and inappropriate turn.

 

But it all seems natural. Ryan isn't a talkative guy, and Michael has enough words for them both. Michael offers him the escape he needs from his less than agreeable life, and he doesn't plan for that to change.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. I've been dealing with a back injury for a little over a month now, plus I was on vacation for two and a half weeks over New Years.
> 
> I think I've figured out where I want this to go. Hopefully I don't hit a wall and lose inspiration.
> 
> Anyways, Enjoy!

He's been getting lazy. The grass is starting to overgrow, and the bushes need a good trimming. Michael usually doesn't let the garden stray from perfect condition, but the more time he spends with Ryan and Ray the less time—and desire—he has to do his job.

 

It's weird to him that just a couple weeks ago he had barely known what the King looked like. He'd seen Ryan maybe a handful of times before meeting him in the garden that night, but now he sees the King practically every day.

 

He doesn't mind at all. He and Ray had spoken on numerous occasions, mostly about roses. Ray is, after all, the only guy Michael sees who comes to the garden and admires flowers because he genuinely wants to. They'd gotten to a first name basis but conversation was stagnant beyond that. There hadn't been incentive to talk more. But now Ray comes to the garden even more than before, usually following Ryan, and not just for the roses. He and Ray have developed a great friendship in the short amount of time they'd spent getting to know each other. Ryan and Ray feel like old friends to him, and that's something he can't say about anyone else.

 

Today they've yet to arrive, if they will at all. Michael starts throwing himself into his work if they don't show up—he does his job and then, if the King himself interrupts, then who can say otherwise?

 

As always, time is lost to him when he works. Maybe it's because he's only ever tended to this garden, maybe it's because he's a fucking schmuck, but he absolutely loves what he does, which is more than most people can say. Something about bringing a garden to life and maintaining it just makes him feel like he's worthwhile to the world. He remembers feeling like that when he saw his father or mother smile at him, but then his mother, and then shortly after his father, had died and all he had left was the flowers and bushes and trees. He supposes he'd adapted okay, given that he never leaves the castle grounds or interacts with anyone save the occasional noble taking a stroll through the garden(though honestly he tends to avoid them).

 

It's a little after midday when he hears voices. Instinctively crouching lower, he for once appreciates being rather short so as to hide in the taller plants around him. The voices draw nearer until he can hear individual words.

 

“I know what I'm supposed to do. How can I not, when marriage was the only thing I was born for? My parents certainly didn't have me out of love, that's one thing I know. It's my duty as the King to marry and have children, I know that.”

 

That's Ryan!

 

“You can't just keep ignoring them, sooner or later they're going to override your wishes and arrange you a marriage. And you can't decline without raising suspicion as to why.”

 

Ryan's speaking with Ray. Michael feels a little bad eavesdropping on his friends, but their conversation intrigues him. So he isn't wrong thinking it unusual that the King has yet to take a bride, and he's always wondered why, when so many King's before him had married barely out of their diapers. But as someone who doesn't really care about marriage, he can understand Ryan's reluctance. Plus, women are hard to deal with. Don't get him wrong he loves a good woman, but give him a man any day.

 

Ryan sighs and Michael can see him, through the leaves, sit at one of the many benches scattered about the garden.

 

“I can't help not wanting to do it. And with the...feelings that have been developing, the more I spend time with him the less and less I want to go through with it. Maybe I should just give up the crown and run away with him.”

 

Whoever it is Ryan's talking about, Michael can see that the man cares about him deeply. And he's a little bit jealous, because he can freely admit that he likes Ryan, at the very least, as a friend, and at the most...way more than a friend, that's for damn sure.

 

“Now that's a dumb idea. Your family has been great to this kingdom, and I don't know if I trust anyone in court right now to take over. The kingdom needs you to rule over it. Plus, your little crush is way to obsessed with work to up and leave without a moment's notice.”

 

“I hate when you make sense.” Ryan glares at Ray, but if Ray does something in kind Michael can't tell, as Ray is facing away from him. Ryan then dismisses Ray to do whatever he pleases, and the knight bows before taking his leave.

 

Curious, Michael silently maneuvers through the bushes until he's on the other side of the garden. Then he circles back around to where Ryan is staring at the ground.

 

“Hey, I didn't know you were here,” he greets, taking the seat next to Ryan. The man looks up, and his face relaxes that much more. Michael smiles at him. “What the fuck man, hanging out in my garden without saying hi? I'm hurt.” He puts a hand on his chest. “So what's up?”

 

“Nothing, thankfully. And I'm sorry for not coming to say hi I was just—Ray and I were talking about some political junk.”

 

“Huh. You know, when I was younger I thought being King must have been the most amazing thing in the world. I mean, you can do whatever you want, you don't have to listen to anyone or do your own chores or even feed yourself, if you wanted. Whenever I heard about your father it was usually because of some big party being thrown or a parade in town or something. But that's what kids do right? Pretend to be Kings or Queens, or play a knight rescuing a Princess. But you know, I'm glad that King's are just as miserable as the rest of us. So thanks for not being as much of an asshole as you could be.”

 

“You are very welcome. I'm happy my life's problem can work in your favor. I strive to make life enjoyable for you, it seems.”

 

“As you should.”

 

They fall into a comfortable silence, not uncommon between them. As he stares at the ground, Michael can't help but go through Ryan's conversation with Ray a few minutes earlier, and the jealously he'd felt. He doesn't have a right, does he? The man sitting next to him, twiddling his thumbs, is the King and Michael's a gardener for fuck's sake. What right does Michael have feeling jealous over something that will most likely never be returned? It's stupid and Michael feels foolish just thinking it, but dammit he's wants what he wants and he can't help that.

 

][][][

 

A few days later, Michael's in the garden when a troupe of castle workers makes their way through.

 

Standing and wiping the sweat from his forehead, he takes a quick breather to watch them pass. Considering he's pretty sure he's never seen them before, they must be maids and servants. They're all carrying a variety of items, from dishes to cloth to silverware. Curiosity piqued, he makes a beeline to them when he spots another knight among them, one that he's talked to on a few occasions.

 

The knight notices his approach and smiles widely. “Michael! Good to see you.”

 

“And you. What's all this?”

 

Jeremy, the knight, looks at the pile of stuff in his arms. A few table covers and eating mats. “You didn't hear huh? There's gonna be a huge party 'cause another King is visiting.”

 

“Really? Who?” There hasn't been other royalty here in years, mostly because Ryan's parents scared everyone away. He wonders how Ryan will deal with the presence of another King.

 

“King Geoff, from the southern lands. From what I've heard him and Ryan are actually on good terms and he's come to the North for vacation purposes.”

 

King Geoff is only someone he's heard about, and even then he only knows the man likes to party. That, and he has a warrior Queen.

 

“I've got to get going, but maybe I'll see you at the party.” Jeremy leaves to catch up with the others, and Michael's left with just his flowers and his thoughts.

 

There have been several parties in the castle since Michael's been alive, but he's never been to one. Of course, that'd all been before he became friends with the King, but Michael's still conflicted about it. He wonders if Ryan will invite him, and if he does, what to say. He kinda doesn't want to go, because then he'd have to find something nice to wear(which means going into town), and on top of that, he doesn't do well in large crowds of people he doesn't know.

 

But...it could mean spending more time with Ryan, which is something he's always up for.

 

Hm. Quite the dilemma.

 

Michael has the party in his thoughts all day and night. When the next day comes 'round, and Ryan comes to the garden, Michael stresses over what to say in the case Ryan asks him, which, of course, Ryan notices.

 

“Are you okay? You're quiet.”

 

Michael blinks and looks at Ryan. The man's looking back expectantly, but Michael doesn't remember what he'd just said. “What?”

 

“I said you're quiet today. Are you alright?”

 

“Oh. Uh...yeah, just—thinking, about some stuff.”

 

“May I inquire as to what that stuff might be?”

 

Michael bites his lip and looks away. Should he bring it up? He doesn't know when the party is, it could be tonight. What if Ryan assumes he's going. Or, more likely, that he's not going. It's not like he's ever been invited to the other parties before.

 

“Yesterday...I was talking to Jeremy, one of the knights, about a party that's supposed to be happening? And I was wondering...well, I was thinking about it...” _Just spit it out idiot, do it!_ But he doesn't, instead looking back at Ryan.

 

“Yes, there is going to be a party in a few days. There's a King visiting from the South and he's adamant I throw a party for his arrival.” Ryan sighs, shaking his head. “Geoff can be quite the stubborn prick, but he does know how to throw a good party.” Ryan then looks at him with a brow raised. “Did you want to attend?”

 

“I mean, I've never been to one and I was thinking it could be cool...”

 

Ryan opens his mouth, closes it, then frowns. He looks away momentarily, and Michael unconsciously twists his fingers together as he waits for Ryan to say something.

 

Finally he turns back around. His face is suspiciously neutral. “The thing is, commoners aren't usually allowed to parties, no matter their reason. And that's mostly because commoners aren't allowed into the castle except on official business, like if they're summoned. However...” Michael, who'd been feeling more and more dejected(even though he still doesn't know if he actually wants to go or not), perks up at that. “I can invite you, and as long as you look the part of a Lord or Noble, no one should question your presence.”

 

His good mood is almost instantly crushed when he remembers his meager closet and the tattered clothes inside. “I don't have nice clothes though, is the thing.”

 

Ryan waves a hand at that. “That matters not. I'll have Ray take you into town for such matters.”

 

Michael looks down at his hands, hiding a soft blush. It's weird to have someone care about him this much. “I...don't know what to say. Thank you so much.”

 

“You are very welcome.”

 

With his head down, he misses the fond smile Ryan gives him.

 

][][][

 

Later that day finds Ray and Michael riding a carriage into town. Michael's a lot more nervous than he thought he'd be. For one, he hardly ever leaves the castle, and secondly, he doesn't know the first thing about proper clothing, and he doesn't even want to think about etiquette.

 

The carriage bumps along the road into town. The closer they get, the higher his anxiety becomes. He bounces his leg and taps his fingers to his thighs as distractions, but it hardly works. He's too wound up to relax.

 

Finally they arrive, and he and Ray climb out of the carriage. The town is bustling, like always, and a few people nosily stare at them and their carriage—well, Ray in his chain mail turns heads. Apparently they've never seen a knight before.

 

 

“Alright, there's a shop that specializes in clothing for Nobles and Lords. Do you have an idea of what you want?”

 

“Uh...honestly I don't know the first thing about being...proper, or whatever.”

 

Ray nods. “That makes sense. It's okay man, it's easy. The tailor will take care of everything.”

 

It's not a long walk—the nicer part of town is closer to the castle and smaller overall. The building is nothing special, other than it's presence in the nicer part of town. To Michael it looks exactly like every other building, but he does notice a sign hanging from the front with a blue shirt carved into it.

 

Ray holds the door open for him, bowing in an exaggerated manner and grinning up at him. “After you.”

 

“Wow what a gentleman,” Michael responds in kind.

 

If the outside had been nothing special, the inside is everything. The large room he now stands in is the second most colorful place he's ever seen, his garden being the first. Cloth of different colors and sizes line every surface, and he can't walk two steps without his eyes being drawn to a particularly bright or gaudy affair.

 

Ray ignores it all and beelines for a little desk in the back. Michael trails behind at a slower pace, ogling everything he passes.

 

A light _ding_ from a small bell sitting on the desk calls for assistance. Not ten seconds pass before a beautiful young woman rounds a corner to greet them.

 

“Terribly sorry to keep you waiting, Sir,” she says, bowing slightly as she recognizes both Ray and the crest on Ray's chain mail. “It would be my pleasure to assist the Royal Knight.”

 

“I require a fitting outfit for my friend here,” Ray says, gesturing to him. “He must look the part of a Noble for an upcoming event.” Ray pulls a leather pouch from his belt and lays it on the table. “Money is of no issue.”

  
“I see,” the woman says, brushing fiery red hair out of her face. Her eyes, a piercing green in the torchlight, turn from Ray, to the pouch, to Michael. She smiles at him.

 

“Surely the King knows that clothes will do nothing to hide his identity? He's as fresh-faced as a newborn lamb.”

 

Ray shrugs and glances at Michael, who raises a brow in question. But Ray ignores him, turning back to the woman with a sigh. “Ryan knows what he's doing.”

 

“Indeed,” she says, her smile widening. “Come along then, this way,” she beckons. When he fails to move, Ray nudges him in the side.

 

“She means you. Don't worry, it won't hurt much.”

 

“Gee, thanks for the confidence boost,” he mutters, but follows the young lady into another room.

 

There are three large mirrors and a stool in the middle of the new room. More rolls of material line the walls, but the room is a lot cleaner than the front of the store.

 

“Stand here please,” she requests, tapping the stool. He obeys and stands up on it, looking at himself clearly for the first time in a long time. He has a small mirror in his house, but it's nowhere near as clean and reflective as these are. The first thing he notices is his hair. He needs to get it cut again. It's starting to do that thing were it puffs out and becomes a hindrance. He also notices how dirty his skin is, especially in comparison to the young woman, making him feel self-conscious. He tries telling himself that it's impossible to stay clean for long working in a garden, but it hardly does anything to help him.

 

The woman doesn't seem bothered with his appearance, and if she is she hides her disgust well. She's busy digging around in a desk off to the side, and Michael watches through the mirror as she yanks a tangled mess of some kind of flat string from a drawer. She curses quietly to herself as she untangles it, luckily unraveling it rather quickly. Michael finds himself admiring her beauty before he can stop himself.

 

With the strange string she measures various parts of his body, nodding to herself every so often.

 

“So,” she starts, taking a moment to pin her hair up and out of her face. “I'm guessing you have no idea what to expect here?”

 

“You'd be dead on,” he confirms. Then after a thought he adds, “I'm a gardener at the castle.”

 

She raises a brow, hands on her hips. “That would explain some things. Hm...”

 

She stares at him for a bit of time, making him vaguely uncomfortable. “Do you have a favorite color?” She asks abruptly.

 

“...Blue?” He answers hesitantly. He doesn't really, but he figures blue is a solid color to wear.

 

She walks behind the mirror and he hears a door open. After listening to her rustle about in the other room, she comes back into view with arms full of clothes.

 

“I'm going to see if any of these work. They might need some hemming but nothing extreme so that'll be quick. And easy. Now let's see.”

 

She spends the next several minutes holding various clothes up to him, each one as fancy as he'd seen the Nobles at the castle wear. He quite likes several of them. One in particular is his favorite of the lot, and after sorting the possibilities from the rejects, she dresses him in his favorite again.

 

It's simple, which might be why he's drawn to it. The main color is a dark gray, plain in design and smooth in texture. The accent is a brilliant blue, shining like satin in the lighting. It reminds him of shimmering sapphires he'd seen in store windows years ago as a child.

 

The top consists of three separate pieces, an undershirt, a vest, and a jacket. While he likes the outfit without the jacket, she politely informs him that it's customary to wear the entire ensemble until an appropriate time comes to shed his jacket. The undershirt is the blue he fancies, the sleeves tight at the shoulders but loose at the wrists. It's also a little long on him, as are the dark gray slacks.

 

“It's an easy fix,” she says, marking the sleeves and legs with pins for later. “And it's not too tight anywhere else?”

 

“No.”

 

She smiles, taking his breath away. “That's good! We got lucky. Well, we're done for now. You can take that off now.”

 

After quickly slipping into his old, tattered clothes, he follows her out of the dressing room to where Ray is waiting.

 

Michael gets the impression that Ray is relieved, as he looks thankful to see them. “I trust you found something acceptable.”

 

“Of course I did. Ryan won't have a thing to worry about.”

 

“He'll be glad to hear it. How long should it take?”

 

“For the King? Not long at all. Swing by later to pick it up, around sundown.”

 

“Very well. Thank you for your services.”

 

“It was my pleasure. Goodbye now.”

 

Michael waves to the nice lady as he walks out. She smiles and winks, making him duck his head and blush lightly. Once inside the carriage and on their way back to the castle, Michael finally thinks of something to say. He's tired of silence.

 

“Do you know her?” He asks, because their interaction had stricken him as odd. Though there had been only politeness and respect between Ray and the tailor, he'd gotten the feeling they'd had a secret conversation throughout the visit.

 

Ray casts him a sidelong glance and the corner of his mouth twitches up. “Yeah. Her name is Lindsay, and she's pretty cool. She used to work at the castle as the tailor but she moved into town when her mother became ill. Thankfully she recovered, but Lindsay still lives with her to offer assistance. Plus I'm pretty sure she just wants to be with her mother in the case she might become ill again and die.”

 

“Huh. She was...er, very nice.” Unbidden, blood floods his cheeks and he looks away.

 

“Aw, does someone have a crush?” Ray says teasingly, and Michael kicks him in his armored shin.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“It's okay, I won't tell anyone.”

 

“Whatever, she's not my type anyway.”

 

“She's pretty, she's nice, she's smart, and she made you blush. That's not your type?”

 

Michael scowls at Ray's knowing smile. Damn, he'd hoped Ray hadn't noticed. Fucker's a lot more attentive than he'd given him credit for.

 

“Fuck off.”

 

Ray throws his hands up in a mock surrender. “Hey now, no need to get hostile on me. I get it, chicks are apparently a no-go.”

 

“I never said that,” Michael mutters, looking out the window. He's not ashamed to be attracted to both men and women, far from it, but saying it aloud is...different. For so long he'd had only himself for company, it's hard adjusting to the thought that other people actually want to talk to him, and hang around him, and know what he's feeling and all that junk. But he knows how great a guy Ray is and that he'd truly never betray Michael's trust. “Woman are...whatever.”

 

“Huh. Whatever floats your boat man, I'm cool with it.”

 

“Thanks for the approval over my choices in life.”

 

“No problem.”

 

Michael shakes his head but smiles nonetheless. Ray spends the rest of the trip telling Michael all sorts of stories about his adventures as a Knight, and by the time they reach the castle Michael's forgotten all about his earlier concerns.

 

They've just entered the garden when they encounter Ryan.

 

“And how did the day go for you two?” Ryan walks up to them, hands behind his back, and bows slightly.

 

“Boring for me, productive overall,” Ray says, bowing in return. Michael doesn't, and finds it strange that Ray still does. Maybe he'd been told to? Or trained to. Then he thinks, should he bow? Ryan's never seemed bothered by his lack of bowing.

 

“Ah, so you found something then did you?” Ryan asks him, and Michael pushes his strange thoughts away.

 

“Yeah, and I really like it. It's not the fanciest getup in the world but I think it looked nice.”

 

“I won't doubt you then.” Ryan smiles at him, and he goes all gooey inside. The feeling is short-lived as Ryan turns back to Ray.

 

“When will it be completed?”

 

“She said to go back around sundown.”

 

“...I really should do something for her, shouldn't I?”

 

“You really should.”

 

Suddenly, Michael feels like he doesn't belong here. It's like he's watching Ray and Ryan talk to each other as if they were alone. Their relationship is so... _casual_. And while he doesn't have any ill will towards Ray in any regards, he can't help but feel jealous over the level of ease with which the two talk to each other. To him, his lack of knowledge of laws and rules makes him feel like an outsider.

 

“Michael.”

 

“Hm?” He hums, blinking his eyes at Ryan's patient face. “What.”

 

“Once your new clothes are complete, I was thinking tomorrow I could start showing you how to act. Basic junk about respecting unspoken laws and all that. Would that be okay?”

 

“Y-Yeah, that'd be great! I'm looking forward to it.”

 

Ryan smiles his stupidly perfect smile. “Fantastic. I shall see you tomorrow then. I bid thee farewell.”

 

He makes an exaggerated bowing motion and walks away, Ray waving goodbye at him as he follows behind.

 

Michael smiles despite his odd mood and retires to his hut for the rest of the day.

 

][][][

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“But there's no danger to—”

 

“No danger? How about the undermining of our society!”

 

“Now you're being outrageous, two people in love doesn't effect a society's structure.”

 

“They do if they're the same gender, don't you people see? It goes against nature!”

 

“The only thing I see going against nature is you denying a group of people their basic rights. I will not let the people live in fear anymore. They should be free to express themselves however they wish, I will not continue this cyclical argument. All in favor?”

 

All but one raise their hands.

 

“It is decided. I'm sorry we can't see eye to eye. The King has presented to me a very clear argument and should you have any questions I suggest you ask him directly, as I fear my words do his no justice.”

 

Silence.

 

“Very well. Sir Ray.”

 

The knight, previously standing dutifully by the doors, steps forward.

 

“The King should be happy to know that his proposal in court has passed. Please see to it he is informed, as he couldn't find the time to attend himself. Dismissed.”

 

Ray bows and turns to leave, a wide smile creeping onto his face. What a win for the kingdom.

 

][][][

 

As has been the trend these days, Ray finds Ryan in the garden. The man is sitting on a bench with a pen in hand, writing into a small brown notebook. Ray wonders if he's writing poetry. There's a little spring to his step as he approaches.

 

“Your Majesty,” Ray says, bowing in greeting. Ryan looks up and smiles at him.

 

“Ray, good morning.”

 

“Where's Michael?” Ray asks, as the two have been sticking to each other's sides lately. They've grown quite close as friends since meeting.

 

“He's working. As much as I want him to myself he loves his job too much to quit it, and I would never force him to.”

 

“Well, if it helps I have news that will brighten your day. It's a good thing you're already sitting this would have knocked you off your feet. They passed it.”

 

“They passed...?”

 

“Your proposal. Just now. They sent me here to tell you since you missed the meeting _again_.” Ray smiles—he can't help it—at Ryan's happily surprised face. Ryan shuts his books and tucks it into his coat before standing, seemingly at a loss for words. It's at this moment that Michael walks over.

 

“What's got you so excited?” He smiles, Ryan's good mood infectious.

 

“I've just heard wonderful news, and—I'm sorry Michael, would you forgive me? Ray and I must go into town for a bit.” Ray blinks in surprise, this knowledge previously unknown to him.

 

“Right now or...?”

 

“Yes,” Ryan turns to Michael and smiles apologetically. “We'll be back shortly.”

 

“I'll...be here,” Michael says, waving as the two of them walk away.

 

][][][

 

A man stalks along the halls of the castle, his face twisted in an ugly sneer. He recounts the meeting he'd just been witness to and scoffs in disgust. It's not right for two people of the same gender to be wed, it goes not only against tradition but nature as well. The proof is their inability to reproduce, can't people see?

 

He passes by a window and glances through, spotting Sir Ray and the King discussing something in the gardens. He stops and watches. Undoubtedly Sir Ray is telling the King of his passed proposal, which makes him shudder in disgust. He's had a feeling for a while now that the reasoning behind the King being so adamant about denying a Queen isn't because he isn't ready, as he's stated.

 

A young man walks into view then, someone he'd seen awhile back with the King in the castle. He'd found it strange and inappropriate then, and glares as the three of them talk. He narrows his eyes as he watches them interact, and makes a mental note to find out more information about the man.

 

Something is not right here and he's going to figure out what.

 

][][][

 

“It's weird seeing you like this,” Ray comments, walking alongside Ryan as they return to the castle. Ryan pauses on the top steps and turns the small white box over in his hands.

 

“It's weird feeling like this. I—I almost wish I wasn't the King.”

 

Ray blinks and whistles. “Wow, that's some pretty heavy stuff. You feel that strongly for him? You haven't even mustered up the courage to tell him yet.”

 

Ryan sighs and looks around, eyes drawn towards the guards posted about the castle gates. He walks into the castle and makes his way to his chambers. Once there he goes to the window, a routine he'd started without really knowing when. Sometimes he spots Michael and smiles, and sometimes he doesn't and feels cold.

 

In the safety of his own chambers, he removes his crown and studies it.

 

“It's not like I've never thought about it before,” he starts, looking up at Ray momentarily before gazing back down at his crown. The heavy gold crown has rubies and sapphires adorning the outside, and small emeralds studded about. It's a beautiful crown and he's lucky to call it his, but sometimes the sight of it disgusts him, makes him think of all the blood it's seen. People have died because of it. He wants to make sure Michael isn't one of them.

 

“I know there would be consequences if I decided to step down. Not only for me but for the kingdom. I've been bred for ruling, and any replacement would be second best. I couldn't do that to my people.”

 

“But...?”

 

“But...I don't know, there's a lot to it that makes it hard to think about.” Ryan sighs and puts the crown back on, gazing out the window again. Michael isn't visible from this angle, and Ryan has the strong urge to find him and comfort himself with the other's company.

 

“I don't really have the authority to tell you what to do, but as your friend I can try to give you some advice?” Ray walks up to him and joins him at the window, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving him a shake. “I've never been in love with someone before, but I'm guessing you always want to be around him?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you always want to see him? And talk to him?”

 

“Of course. What are you getting at?”

 

Ray smiles. “Do what you want. You're the King, who's going to stop you?”

 

Ryan narrows his eyes and opens his mouth, then closes it, thinking. Could he just...leave? Surely no one would miss him, and he could live in a neighboring kingdom, maybe Geoff's. He's always been a bit jealous of Geoff's court and life, it'd be nice to live the kind of life he wants and not the one he's forced to. And the prospect of living a happy life with Michael is an appealing one. Perhaps this is a topic he should bring up with Geoff, and ask for an opinion on what to do.

 

His happiness subsides a bit when he considers Ray. “What about you?” He asks, concern written across his face. Despite his skill and position as Ryan's personal knight, Ray's young still. He's got so much potential, and if Ryan decides to up and leave, Ray is the first one they'll question.

 

Ray quells his fears with an easy smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. “You know me, I'm pretty loyal. I don't have family in this kingdom anyway, and you and Michael are pretty much my only friends. What, were you thinking of leaving me behind?”

 

Ryan smiles and nudges Ray with an elbow. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

 

“Oh hey! It's almost midday, you should think about snatching Michael from work to start teaching him about what to expect and how to act.”

 

“A marvelous idea. And while I'm doing it you should take some time for yourself.”

 

Ray's eyes widen and he smiles excitedly. “Thank you, your Highness. I will take you up on that offer.”

 

“If I'm not in here when you return, I'll most likely be in the library. I shall see you later then,” Ryan says, waiting for Ray's confirmation before leaving his room and making his way to the gardens.

 

When he gets there, he spots Michael standing by a group of sunflowers, holding a watering can. He slows his pace and takes a moment to drink the image in, then quickens his pace when Michael happens to look over and notice him.

 

“Come to steal me from my job again?” Michael asks lightly, setting the watering can down. Ryan nods.

 

“I have indeed, though I wouldn't worry if I were you. I think the person in charge would be okay if you took some time off.”

 

“How can I argue with that logic?” Michael stretches before picking the can back up. “Give me a second or two, I have to finish watering. It's been pretty hot these last few days and I want to make sure my babies make it through the rest of the summer.”

 

“Please, by all means take all the time you need. I'm sure you'll find this more enjoyable than learning about Noble customs and laws anyway.”

 

“Oh joy.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I'm working on two other fics for a different fandom at the same time, which really isn't good but, I can't stop the ideas you know?
> 
> Anyway, here's the next chapter and I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> (Also sorry if there's typos I kinda get tired of reading this thing lol)

The days pass slowly for Michael, as he awaits the arrival of the visiting King and therefore, the party. Ryan had shown him some basic bows and told him what to expect and all that, and while Michael knew he'd most likely not speak to anyone, he's still nervous. He's never considered himself a people person, and at this party he's literally only going to know two people, both of whom will be busy.

 

He sighs, turning off a faucet he's been using to fill a watering can before lugging the heavy pale to the far side of the garden to water the flora there. With Ryan so busy, the garden's been oddly quiet for the last few days, and it's weird to think that a couple months ago this silence had been normal; expected even. But then Ryan and Ray had walked into his life and filled it with sound and company and now Michael thinks the garden isn't complete without that aspect. It's still as beautiful as ever, but nonetheless there's still something missing.

 

At least he has the garden to occupy his time, even if sometimes the days can seem to last a millennium. Oftentimes it's hard work, tending to the garden. Kneeling in dirt under the scorching sun and with limited shade around makes for satisfying, sure, but tiresome progress. Luckily it's the summer, so all he has to do is water now, having already planted and replanted the flowers that had died during the harsh winter.

 

As he goes back to refill the watering can, he wonders what his parents would have thought about his fraternizing with the King, no matter how innocent it might be so far. His father had been fully dedicated to giving Ryan's mother the greatest garden in all the lands, and Michael takes pride in keeping that vision alive. Though he blushes just thinking about it, he's willing to do a lot for Ryan, King or not.

 

Having lived on castle grounds all his life, Michael hasn't bothered seeing out 'company.' He has his own hand for the loneliest of nights, but otherwise he's pretty okay with his solitary lifestyle. Sure he can go into town and admire all the pretty men and women, but it's really just a bother since he wants to have a connection with someone. He doesn't want a purely physical relationship.

 

Even though Ryan will probably never reciprocate his affections, Michael can feel the connection he wants when Ryan's around. They're so alike in mentality, it's easy to slip into a comfortable routine with him. Ryan's turned out to be a huge nerd who would rather read books about fantasy life than rule a kingdom, but Michael won't deny that he's of a similar class. If only things were different; if only Ryan wasn't the King or Michael not a commoner, it only they were two simple men, then Michael might have had the courage to ask Ryan out, but alas, things are too complicated for that.

 

Especially since Ryan being with a man could turn his court against not only him, but itself, thanks to the backwards jerkwads who don't understand the whole, 'love is love,' concept.

 

Michael sighs again, standing between a hydrangea bush and some peonies. He takes a moment to look over the parts of the garden he can see, and feels a momentary sensation of being small and unimportant. Is it just wishful thinking to want to be with Ryan? Surely a King would want more, right? More than a common gardener.

 

Dejected suddenly, he returns the pale to its spot and starts walking towards his little hut, ready to flop on his bed and call it a day for now, when an unfamiliar voice stops him.

 

“Excuse me? Are you the gardener here?”

 

Michael turns to find a man he's never seen before standing by a patch of sunflowers. Well, man is a strong term, maybe boy is more accurate. The kid's taller than him, sure, but his face is boyish, with short wild brown hair and a large nose. His clothes are fancy, green with black trim and flowing down his thin body. Michael narrows his eyes in suspicion, not impressed and wondering what this guy's deal is.

 

“I might be, who wants to know?”

 

The boy's smile, which had been small and polite, widens to something pleased. “Is that how you treat delegates from other kingdoms?” He says, as if the revelation is suppose to shock Michael.

 

He doesn't fall for it, crossing his arms and glaring. “That's how I talk to everyone. Who are you, huh?”

 

“I'm here with the company of King Geoff. We arrived shortly before midday. I saw this garden in passing and wanted to take a closer look at it's exquisite beauty. Are you it's caretaker?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then you've done a wonderful job. The flowers here are so much more—”

 

“I've heard it all before. Look buddy, I'm tired and don't want to deal with this right now. Enjoy the flowers or whatever but don't touch anything, and I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding the exit. Bye now.”

 

Michael doesn't wait to hear the other's comments, instead turning on his heel and continuing on his way to his hut. He can feel the eyes of the stranger boring into the back of his head, and on impulse turns around, but there's no sight of him. Stumped, Michael shrugs it away and retires for the day.

 

][][][

 

The next day brings the inevitable party, and with it Michael's steadily rising anxiety. He knows what to do in case someone comes up to him, be they man or woman, or even the visiting King, but he still goes over all the steps a thousand times, because he would be the guy to trip when bowing, knowing his luck.

 

Jeremy's the one to come get him, on Ryan's orders. Michael's a little disappointed when Jeremy tells him he most likely won't be seeing Ryan until the party itself has started, but Michael tells himself that it has nothing to do with him, that Ryan's the King and of course he's going to be busy at a time like this.

 

Jeremy leads him to a room where a familiar face is waiting for him. He's not surprised that she's even more beautiful than the last time he'd seen her.

 

“Hey there,” Lindsay greets with an easy smile. “Ready?”

 

“As I'll ever be.”

 

Turns out he isn't ready.

 

He'd been expecting to simply change into the suit, but his commoner filth must have been obvious, because he ends up getting a bath. A _thorough_ bath, which has his pale skin pink by the end of it. His hair is scrubbed so hard his scalp aches, and the curls that had been starting to droop in front of his eyes are clipped short. He's rubbed and sprayed with sweet scents he can't pronounce the names of, and then _finally_ he's ready for the suit.

 

Lindsay smiles the entire time she's helping him into his clothes, and his mood, soured by the pampering, doesn't take kindly to her almost vicious smile.

 

“What's got you so happy?” He snaps, folding his arms while she finishes tying his shoes(as if he can't do it himself, whatever).

 

She wipes imaginary dirt from the polished leather before standing, giving him a once-over.

 

“It's been a long time since I've been to a party at the castle and I'm looking forward to it. You'd know what I'm talking about if you'd been to one before.”

 

“Wait, you're going to the party?” This is news to him, but then again he's only going to know two people there, maybe three if Jeremy's going. It really shouldn't surprise him.

 

“Yep. In fact, Ryan wants me to go as your date.”

 

“My—what! Why?”

 

She mock pouts, hands on her hips. “You don't want to be my date, is that it?”

 

“I—er...” He struggles to backtrack, hoping not to offend her. She's just so captivating, he's afraid he's going to forget what to do and what to say around her. “No, of course that's not it. I was just...surprised is all. I'd have to be an idiot to turn down such an offer.”

 

To his surprise she blushes and smooths out her dress, but there's a wide smile on her face. “Good. I'm going to change then we can make our way to the party. Some of King Geoff's company should be there already as well.”

 

Michael waits for her, choosing to look out the windows. He can see most of the garden, and beyond that the wall encompassing the castle. Then, it's nothing but green hills as the land stretches towards the horizon. For some reason, seeing the garden like this, as just a bunch of pretty colors blending together, leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

 

“Hey, make yourself useful and help me out here.”

 

He turns around to find Lindsay facing away from him, untied lace weaving in a crisscross from the middle of her back to the base of her neck. There's also an untied sash hanging at her hips, sewed into the sides.

 

“Are you sure you want me to do that? I don't really know what I'm doing here,” he warns as he gently grabs the lace. He hears her scoff.

 

“What, you can't pull lace tight then tie it in a bow?”

 

He frowns at the tone in her voice. “Of course I can, I'm not an idiot.”

 

“Then do that. Same with the sash, just don't pull on it.”

 

Once he gets her sorted out, she turns around, letting him see the front of her dress.

 

The back had been a deep blue, matching his own suit, and while it had been pretty, the front is even more spectacular. The lacing and sash is a darker blue, and her jewelry, namely her necklace and earrings, are silver with blue gems studded throughout them. The greatest contrast among her is between the dress and her hair, though she must have done something to it since the last time he saw her. It's not nearly as red as it had been and instead is a reddish brown, enough to go well with the dress. Still, against the blue of the dress, it's slight red coloring pops.

 

“Come on, I want to meet up with Meg first.” She takes his wrist and starts dragging him out of the room without bothering for a confirmation from him. He rolls his eyes.

 

“Yes _dear_.”

 

She turns her head to wink at him, and they round the corner to find Meg talking to someone. As they approach, Meg and her company greet them, and that's when Michael recognizes the stranger from yesterday.

 

His face has been passive, but when he sees Michael and Lindsay a grin lights up his face. Michael, on the other hand, scowls.

 

“Lindsay! Oh my Gods it's been ages!” Meg squeals, meeting her halfway and clasping their hands together. “You look beautiful!”

 

“Thank you! I've missed your beautiful face as well.”  
  
“Oh you,” Meg says with a pleased smile. She seems to suddenly realize the two boys with them. “Oh! You must be Michael, right?”

 

He nods, drawing a bright smile to her lips.

 

“Ryan's told me a lot about you,” she says with a wink, and he feels his face catch fire. Ryan talks to people about him? Why?

 

Then she clears her throat, turning slightly to gesture to the stranger with her. “This is Gavin, from King Geoff's company. He's the King's son.”

 

Lindsay gasps and takes her dress in hand to bow, but Gavin halts her with a held up hand. “Please, there's no need. If anything I should be bowing to a such a pretty lady like yourself.”

 

Michael rolls his eyes, scowling when he sees Lindsay actually blush from that crap. What a tool this Prince is turning out to be.

 

Gavin then looks at him, and Michael glares back. Like in the garden, he smiles at Michael's anger, which only infuriates him more.

 

“And it is certainly nice to see you again,” he says, but Michael won't be swayed with kind words.

 

“Yeah whatever,” he mumbles.

 

Seeing Gavin's smile and Michael's glare, Meg clears her throat and gestures to the door. “Shall we go in?”

 

“Yes,” Lindsay says quickly, hooking her arm around Michael's and dragging him through the door. Gavin offers his arm to Meg and she takes it with a smile.

 

The party is a lot less formal than Michael had been expecting, and the cause of that is King Geoff. The visiting King is loud, and vulgar, and improper. Michael likes him a lot, surprised as he is to see a King act like a common drunkard.

 

And as long as he stays by Lindsay's side and keeps his eyes down, he ends up not having to talk to anyone, which works fine for him. Lindsay talks enough for the both of them anyway.

 

Just when he thinks he might actually be able to have a good time, Lindsay asks him to track down one of the servants walking around with drinks, and as he does so, he ends up running into Gavin.

 

That infuriating smile is on his face, darkening Michael's mood immediately.

 

“Hello—”

 

“Save it,” Michael snaps, pushing past Gavin. “I'm not interested.”

 

“Wait!”

 

Gavin grabs his wrist as he tries to pass, and Michael almost wants to turn and punch him. But he refrains, instead stopping like Gavin wants but ripping his wrist out of Gavin's grip.

 

“Fine, talk. What the hell do you want?” He hisses.

 

“I—” Gavin's smile finally fades, and he looks a lot...sadder, without it. More pathetic. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Really,” Michael drawls, crossing his arms.

 

“Truly. I just—I wasn't in the gardens the other day because I thought the _flowers_ were stunning...” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his pants and avoiding the implications of his statement. Oh.

 

Despite his anger, he blushes. First Ryan and Ray become his friends, and now a Prince wants to come into his life, all because he looks 'stunning.' When the fuck had this become his life?

 

“I don't expect you to jump into my arms or anything!” Gavin says suddenly, misinterpreting Michael's silence. “It's just...when you talked back at me, in the gardens and in the hall and just now, no one else does that, and it shows that you don't submit to Royalty, at least not easily.”

 

Maybe it's not a good idea to mention that he would, he would submit faster than the blink of an eye if Ryan asks him to. Instead, he drops his glare to sigh and give Gavin a small smile.

 

“Sorry about being a prick. I'm not really used to receiving so much attention from Royalty, especially since I've gone my whole life so far without it, you know?”

 

Gavin nods, eyes sliding over to Ryan where he talks with Geoff, the both of them laughing heartily. “Yes, I know it can be alarming at times. But I want you to know my intentions are pure.”

 

“Listen, I think we just got off on the wrong foot. Why don't you meet me in the garden tomorrow and we can start from there, if you're so interested.”

 

That smile slides back onto Gavin's face, what Michael now realizes is false bravado rolling off him in waves. It doesn't bother him as much this time.

 

“That sounds top, as I am very much interested. I would bid you farewell with a customary kiss to the hand, but I have a feeling the only 'kissing' would be your fist to my face, and I'd like to avoid that. So I shall simply say goodbye and goodnight.” Gavin bows to him, and Michael almost doesn't bow back but realizes that's Gavin's a _Prince_ so he better fucking bow right now, lest he gets yelled at or something.

 

As Gavin walks away, the promise of meeting him tomorrow lingering in Michael's head, he happens to look over at the sound of loud laughter and catches Ryan's eye. The man smiles and nods, before returning to his conversation with King Geoff.

 

“I see that I'd have to be doing all the heavy lifting if we actually _were_ together,” Lindsay says behind him. Michael turns around to find her holding a drink out to him. Oh yeah.

 

“Sorry, I got distracted,” he admits, taking the drink and sipping it. The taste is funny and a little bitter, but enjoyable the longer he drinks it.

 

“I know, I saw you talking to Gavin a little bit ago. What did he want, if you don't mind my asking?”

 

Michael frowns, staring into his drink. “He apologized,” he says, then adds as if it's no big deal, “Said he fancied me or whatever.”

 

“What!?” Lindsay gasps, a wide smile splitting her face. “No way!”

 

“What?” Michael says defensively, narrowing his eyes. “What's so hard to believe?”

 

“Oh I believe it, you are quite the cutie,” she says, pinching his cheek and making him blush. “It's just exciting, isn't it?”

 

Michael feels like he's missing something. “Is it?”

 

She looks offended, and steps closer to whisper, “He's a Prince, right? And he's interested in you? Don't you see how big a deal that is?”

 

“I guess...” Michael says, and Lindsay throws her hands up and lets the topic go when it becomes clear he's not willing to talk more about it.

 

With Lindsay hanging out with Meg, Michael makes his way outside, onto the balcony. It's not very long or wide, but the cool night air feels amazing on his face and there's no one else out here, allowing him time to himself.

 

He's conflicted. His friendship with the King and Ray has been surprisingly but amazingly fulfilling, after years of solidarity. But his own feelings towards the King have moved on from merely friends to beyond. Not only is he most likely getting his hopes up for nothing, having romantic feelings towards Ryan, but there are so many obstacles to face. They're both men, his feelings might be unrequited, Ryan's the King. Is there a future with Ryan where he can truly be happy?

 

With Gavin, things would be different, right? He's only a Prince, and King Geoff's kingdom is known to be more accepting than Ryan's. And Gavin's not the worst guy in the world, even if Michael had wanted to punch his lights out an hour ago. But he'd have to leave his home to be with Gavin, and he doesn't know if he'd be able to do that.

 

But what if leaving with Gavin is his one shot at genuine, long lasting happiness?

 

“Fuck,” he whispers, holding onto the rail with a white-knuckled grip. “Why is my life so fucked right now?”

 

The sound of voices drawing nearer makes him turn in time to see the doors swing open, revealing both Kings.

 

“Michael! There you are, I was wondering where you'd run off to. I wanted to introduce you to Geoff.”

 

Geoff, as Michael soon learns, is the most laid back and yet highly strung individual he's ever met. The man's got a lazy look about him, like Ray oftentimes does, but Michael doesn't doubt his capabilities as a King because of it. After all, Ray is the King's Knight for a reason, regardless of what he appears to be. Despite the bags under his eyes and the tired smile, his blue eyes are piercing and alert.

 

“Ryan you crazy motherfucker, you didn't tell me you had a consort.”

 

Michael raises a brow as Ryan practically chokes on his drink, his face red. Michael doesn't know what a consort it, but judging by Ryan's reaction he can hazard a guess.

 

“Geoff, please, try to contain yourself. Michael is no such thing, he's the castle's gardener.”

 

“No shit? I was admiring it earlier when I arrived, you've done a fantastic job. Much better than the fools back at my place,” Geoff grumbles. Michael's still slightly shocked Geoff is _this_ casual.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Geoff and Ryan stare at him for a few seconds, leading Michael to believe they're waiting for him to say something, before Geoff grins and slaps Ryan on the back. “I like him. Good choice.”

 

“Geoff, _please_...”

 

“Yeah yeah,” Geoff dismisses, smirking at Michael. “It was nice meeting you.”

 

Geoff turns and leaves back to the party, Michael and Ryan now alone on the balcony.

 

“Sorry about him,” Ryan says, walking up to the railing to stand next to Michael. “He can be a little much.”

 

“It's fine. I like him. He's very...he doesn't seem like a King.”

 

“Yes, I know what you mean. Geoff and I were raised very differently and that effects how we act and rule. Geoff's kingdom has always been more open-minded than most of the others so...” Ryan trails off, shrugging. “Nothing really I can do about it.”

 

“Sorry about that.”

 

“Thanks. I have to return to the party now, will you be joining me?”

 

Michael rubs the back of his neck, biting his lip. “I don't know, maybe in a bit. I'd like some more fresh air before going back in.”

 

“Fair enough.” Ryan pushes away from the railing and walks towards the doors. Michael watches him, surprised when Ryan stops and looks back at him. “That suit looks nice on you,” he says with a smile, before leaving.

 

Michael sighs.

 

Oh Gods. Why him?

 

][][][

 

For some reason Michael had been hoping that the next morning would bring answers to his dilemma, but as he exits his hut and stretches in the warm light of the sun, he's just as confused and torn as he'd been last night.

 

He makes his way to the other side of the garden, checking over each flower bush and shrub while he does so. Voices drift to his ears on the wind, and he stands up fully to look around, spotting Gavin and someone Michael doesn't recognize talking near the castle. As he gets a little closer, making sure to keep doing his job so it's not obvious he's eavesdropping, he realizes that he does actually recognize the man talking with Gavin. It's a Noble, the same Noble he and Ryan had run into when Ryan was giving him a tour of the castle. Looking at him now, Michael gets the same feeling of disgust and distrust as he had back then.

 

Gavin must have noticed him, as he wraps up his conversation with a handshake before coming over to greet him.

 

“Hello love, have a nice night at the party yesterday?”

 

Michael opens his mouth, closes it, rethinks, then smirks.

 

“Only because I didn't see you after we talked.”

 

Gavin mock gasps and clutches his shirt over his heart. “That hurts, it really does. Right here.”

 

“Yeah, okay. If you think that's bad then you probably don't want to be my friend.”

 

“Nah I can handle it.”

 

“Alright, but I warned you.”

 

Surprisingly, Michael enjoys the time he spends with Gavin. It's easy to be friends with him, and everything clicks in his head when Ray visits the gardens.

 

“Hey who's that bloke over there?” Gavin asks, pointing. Michael rolls his eyes as he sees Ray standing by the rose bushes.

 

“That's Ray, King Ryan's Knight. He's also dead if he touches my roses. Hey! Don't you fucking dare!” Michael yells, making Ray look over at them. Gavin laughs as Michael chases Ray around the garden for putting a finger on one of the flowers.

 

Michael gives up, because Ray hasn't even broken a sweat and Michael might just fall over dead if he doesn't catch his breath. And after Ray and Gavin introduce themselves, their little group feels complete.

 

Gavin is arguably one of the smartest people Michael's ever talked to, but he also makes the dumbest and most irrational decision ever, which infuriates Michael. And Ray doesn't help, egging Gavin on and laughing about it afterward, while Michael's fuming. And while Ray might appear lazy and weak, thanks to the bored look on his face and his small and thin stature, his intellect is wickedly sharp. Ray and Gavin get along just as well as Michael and Ray had, and as Michael and Gavin had. It's like they were destined to be friends.

 

All in all this doesn't help Michael. Even if Gavin turns out to be a perfect match for him, he doesn't want to just give up on Ryan. He has to try, right?

 

Eventually Ray leaves, and King Geoff's Knight Jack comes to retrieve Gavin. The Prince promises to visit him again and waves goodbye, and Michael's free to finish his duties, but the alone time only allows his thoughts to fester. He doesn't know what to do.

 

][][][

 

When the last light of the sun starts retreating below the horizon, Michael receives a surprise visit from Ryan.

 

He's alone, standing between some poppies and the sunflowers, and even though he owns this garden, Michael can't help but think he looks awkward standing there, obviously waiting for something—or some _one._

 

“Hey,” Michael greets, coming to stand next to the King. With the sunlight gone, the lanterns have been lit, casting the garden and the two of them in a soft yellow light. The bags under Ryan's eyes and the unkempt hair under his crown speak volumes of his mood. Michael only speaks the truth. “You look like shit.”

 

That brings a small smile to his face. “Thanks. I feel like shit too.”

 

“So what's wrong?”

 

Ryan's quiet, probably debating on whether or not he should tell Michael official business or not, but he apparently decides to hell with the consequences. “It's Geoff.”

 

Michael doesn't quite understand. He'd thought Ryan and Geoff were friends, is there more to their friendship than Michael had assumed? “What about him?”

 

“It's nothing bad,” Ryan says quickly, as if Michael would even think about starting rumors. “Well, maybe it is, but not for the reasons you're probably thinking.”

 

“Well if you would just tell me what the fuck is happening already, I might be able to form my own damn opinion, hm?” He huffs.

 

“Alright, alright, geez. One of the servants who had accompanied Geoff here was found petrified.”

 

“And that's a bad thing?” Michael's never heard that word before in his life.

 

“It's an extremely bad thing. To petrify a living being, that's about the darkest you can get with magic.”

 

“Magic? Wait, what the fuck does petrify mean?”

 

Ryan turns to him, a small frown on his lips as he regards Michael. “It means turning someone to stone.”

 

Michael's eyes widen. “Holy shit, really? Damn.”

 

“Yes. So you can see why I look like shit, as you so nicely put it.”

 

Michael nods, watching the fire flicker in a nearby lantern. He goes over Ryan's words before realizing something. “What does that have to do with Geoff again?”

 

Ryan sighs, a full body motion that makes Michael feel bad for the guy. “Other than one of Geoff's people being dead, we think it was another of Geoff's company who did it.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Magic is not well-know in this kingdom,” Ryan starts explaining, walking over to a nearby bench, Michael following behind to sit next to him. “My father could perform magic of a certain degree, like enchanting, but the people did not have that knowledge. As such, the use of magic never caught on and many people here live their entire lives not believing in the ancient craft. However, Geoff's kingdom is one of the most magical. The people know basic spells and enchantments, but the Nobles are taught since birth how to wield a specific element when they're born.”

 

Michael gives an impressed whistle after Ryan's done speaking, leaning back on the bench.

 

“Magic huh? Must be pretty cool. And powerful.”

 

“It certainly is. Maybe I could get Geoff to show you...”

 

“Michael's head whips around faster than Ryan can blink. “Wait, Geoff knows magic!?”

 

Ryan smiles at his youthful exuberance. “Yes, and very impressive magic at that. A lot of what he shows the public is flashy and harmless, to gain their favors and such. But when he's serious, his magic is dangerous and unrestrained.”

 

“So what makes him so different? Wouldn't most people be like that?”

 

“Geoff's family has always been proficient in magic, that's why they're Royalty. Most people only learn one kind of magic because that's all their bodies can take, but Geoff can easily utilize two distinct magical elements.”

 

“Huh.” Magic is so new and interesting, Michael definitely wants to know more. “You said people can learn a certain king of magic, what exactly does that mean?”

 

Ryan sits up straight to turn to him, and Michael subconsciously does the same. “Think of the elements. The four basic ones are water, fire, earth, and air, right? Well, let's just say I was taught water based magic, or was receptive to it when I was a child. What that means is that I would have the abilities to control water, to a certain extent. I could turn it to ice, for example, or steam. Anything made mostly of water I would then be able to control.”

 

“Wow, honestly that sounds fucking awesome. What other kinds are there?”

 

“Aside from those four elements, there's...” Ryan spends the next several minutes explaining all the types of magic one could learn, quite happy to do so, while Michael listens raptly, slowly moving closer until, by the end of Ryan's explanation, he's laying on the bench, hands behind his head and legs resting over Ryan's gazing up in wonderment at the stars high above.

 

“Holy shit, I had no idea something so cool existed! You gotta ask Geoff to show me sometime.”

 

“I'd love to, but don't hold your breath. With what happened to Geoff's servant, he's on high alert right now.” Ryan sighs. “We all should be. So watch your back, okay? I'd hate for something like that to happen to you.”  
  
Michael would have taken that sentence lightly, but Ryan's voice is too emotional for Michael to ignore. Is there a chance Ryan cares about him as more than a friend? Or is he misinterpreting the situation? It wouldn't be the first time such a thing happened to him, and it certainly won't be the last. But with Ryan he wants to do right; he won't fuck this up.

 

Still, the sentiment is sappy enough for Michael to jokingly say, “Aw, would you miss me if I got turned to stone?”

 

The seriousness with which Ryan looks at him sobers him up a bit. “Of course I would. You mean a great deal to me.”

 

Michael can only blink at those words, his brain replaying them over and over, trying to make sense. Does he dare hope that Ryan reciprocates his feelings? Or does Ryan value their friendship above all else? “I do?”

 

“Yes,” Ryan says, brows drawn and frown heavy, as if Michael's crazy for thinking otherwise. But then he looks away, at the garden. “I don't know if I've ever told you this, but before I knew you I held a great respect for you. I still do. There are times in my life where my duty to my kingdom and people weigh me down, but the garden helps calm me, helps me forget that I'm the King, even if only for a few moments. And now that I know it's you who provides life to my haven, _you_ comfort me in those hard times now.”

 

Michael feels both elated and disappointed. He's happy to be here for Ryan, of course he'll do anything he can to help his King. But is that all that Ryan thinks of him? So they are just friends.

 

Michael exhales slowly before deciding to roll with it. He'll sort everything out later. He smiles, putting a hand on Ryan's shoulder.

 

“I'm happy to be here for you. Anything I can do to help.”

 

Ryan smiles as well, and he looks relieved. Unfortunately, their private moment is interrupted by a servant, who comes up to them and bows at the waist, holding out with both hands a sealed letter. “For you, my King.”

 

Ryan looks mildly perturbed, but takes the letter. Michael watches as his face devolves from neutral to annoyed. He scoffs and shakes his head, before offering Michael an apologetic smile. “I'm afraid out meeting must be cut short. I'm wanted by my court.”

 

Although Michael is put off by the interruption, he's kinda glad at the same time. He just needs some time to think and sort out his feelings.

 

So he gives Ryan a smile in return and stands. “It's cool, you go do your job and don't worry about me. I'll talk to you later.”

 

“Alright,” Ryan agrees, standing as well and dismissing the servant. Once she leaves, Ryan gives him a softer look. “Farewell and goodnight.”

 

“And to you.”

 

Ryan leaves and Michael walks back to his hut, contemplating. There'd been a time in his life where he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted. Now he's not so sure.

 

He knows that he likes Ryan. Either as a friend or more, any opportunity to spend time in the King's presence is a win in Michael's book.

 

As he reaches his hut, resolving to himself to at least attempt to tell Ryan his feelings, even if it means rejection, he notices a note pinned to his door by a small dagger. Curious, he takes the paper and reads it.

 

_Don't move_

 

More confused than anything, Michael's taken by surprise when the ground beneath his feet starts to move, and yells out in shock when vines emerge and wrap around his ankles.

 

“ _Fuck off—_ ” He shouts, trying to kick free. He manages to untangle one of his legs and take a step, but another vine wraps tightly around his freed ankle and yanks his legs together quickly, throwing his balance off enough to send him crashing to the ground. His fight against the magical vines ends quickly once he's downed, his legs and arms pinned tightly to his body. One thicker vine slides tight against his mouth and around his head, fastening into a gag.

 

A pair of boots enter his vision, but with the vines so tight he can't lift his head to see who they belong to. But he swears vehemently that whoever the fucker is, they're going to wish they were never born. Or, he tries to swear that, but the vine against his mouth has the words coming out sound more like garbled gibberish.

 

The boots start walking, and the vines drag Michael along to follow against his will. And no amount of struggling seems to get him any closer to being freed.

 

Fuck.


End file.
